


Statera

by HuiLian



Series: Noctuis [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: ASL, Batman!Dick, Gen, Talon!Dick, YeetDC2020, but a long time since his talonization, hope i still got those right, i love the two of them together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24684439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuiLian/pseuds/HuiLian
Summary: Moments in time, where Damian discovered who Dick Grayson is
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne
Series: Noctuis [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/954840
Comments: 29
Kudos: 300





	Statera

**Author's Note:**

> i finally finished this! i had to rewrite this like, four times because i keep losing my draft. oh well....  
> thanks to CaramelMachete for beta-ing this fic!!!! hope you enjoy it!

Damian always loved tinkering with something. Being able to build his own technologies showed that he had enough skill to do so, so Mother did not discourage it. Sometimes she even brought Damian things to tinker with. 

It was also one of the only activities approved by Mother that was fun. 

There was one rule that Damian knew, however. One rule that has been drilled into him ever since he could remember. Mother’s permission is critical. There was nothing that Damian did that was not pre-approved by his Mother. If he breaks that rule, well, there are only two options. One, Damian was commended for his extraordinary thinking. Two, he was punished because what he did was not acceptable to Mother. 

Mother may approve of his tinkering, but Damian did not live with Mother anymore.

It was almost involuntary. When he drove the Batmobile, the mechanics of the car astounded him. It was _years_ beyond all the vehicles that the League possesses. After Pennyworth repaired it after a crash, it stood there, almost inviting Damian to tinker with it. Damian had been almost helpless to its call. 

He really should have known better. Mother would never tolerate this kind of behavior. Damian was getting reckless by being in Gotham. 

Damian had opened up the Batmobile while Grayson was at work. He had planned on only opening it up and closing it again, just a peek on the pinnacle of engineering that is the Batmobile. But then Damian started thinking about ways to improve the already impressive car. To make it more efficient would require tools and understanding of physics that Damian did not yet possess. To make it more aerodynamic would threaten its structural integrity. To make it more powerful would also require tools and understanding of physics that Damian did not yet possess. 

Oh! Father had a blueprint for making the car fly, hadn’t he? Damian remembered seeing it somewhere in the cave. He had been entranced with it, before. A car, flying! It was almost surreal, had Damian not known that Father was capable of making that a reality. 

A simple search on the computer yielded the blueprints for making the Batmobile fly. After that, Damian could _not_ resist the call. There were the blueprints and the tools, and the car that Damian could make better than it was before. 

When Damian realized that Grayson was standing behind him, he panicked. The Batmobile was still stripped down to its parts, and Damian was standing in the middle of it all. Damian had forgotten the one rule he had grown up with. Never do anything without Mother’s permission. Except now, with him being in Gotham and with Father being… gone, it was Grayson’s permission he should have sought. 

This Batmobile was the one Father had used before. Grayson might not wish for anything in it to be modified. Damian did not know whether Grayson approved of him tinkering or not. 

Damian froze. He decided that he would _not_ cry. He was an al Ghul and a Wayne and _Robin_ to boot. He would not cry. No matter what happens, Damian would bear the punishments Grayson deemed appropriate, and he would _not cry_. 

Grayson did not seem mad. He seemed to be regarding Damian’s work intently, taking the piece that Damian had finished and viewing it from different angles. Throughout it all, Grayson made no sound. Damian did not know if it was something Grayson just _did_ , or if Damian was slacking in observing his environment. He did not hear Grayson come into the Cave, after all. 

(With Mother, not noticing her presence would have merited him another punishment on top of the one he would have got for acting without permission.)

What if Grayson found his work subpar? That would merit another punishment. If Damian had dared disobey Mother, he better make sure that what he did is satisfactory, at the very least. If he did this with Mother, and his work with the vehicle was subpar, it would have been inexcusable. 

Mother would have given him so much more training. Mother preferred to punish Damian by lessons, experiences Damian would dislike but was still ultimately useful. Grandfather was fond of physical pain. Damian did not know what punishment _was_ by Grayson’s standards, but whatever it was, he would get himself through it. He always did. 

“ _Did you do this?”_ Grayson signed. 

“Yes,” Damian said. He really should stop here, but he continued. “Flight would have been very useful in combat situations, Grayson. Why has it not been implemented into the Batmobile? Father must have…” 

“ _Stop_.” A chopping movement from Grayson’s hand. Damian could not contain his flinch. It seemed that his rambling had not been appreciated by Grayson. 

(Damian would not cry. He would _not_.) 

Grayson saw the flinch. He must have. But instead of getting even angrier, Grayson relaxed his entire body. Damian did not understand.

Grayson signed something that Pennyworth told him was his name. It used to irritate him, to have a name given to him by this ingrate of a circus brat, of a failed Talon, but now it brought him comfort. If Grayson was still signing his name and not fingerspelling it, he was not angry. Damian had learned that distinction early on. The first sign that Grayson is angry at someone is when he fingerspelled their name. 

“ _This is amazing.”_ Grayson smiled. 

“Really?” 

Grayson nodded. _“Are you using Bruce’s blueprints?”_

“Yes. I adapted some of it to better improve the car’s maneuverability, but Father’s blueprints are serving as my base.” 

Grayson walked over to the bench that held the blueprints while Damian worked. “ _Are you making adjustments for the exhaust system? I don’t think this exhaust system can handle all the additions you put up.”_

No, Damian had not. He hadn’t reached that part yet, hadn’t considered the exhaust system yet. He was too focused on maneuverability that he forgot that adding power would also require adapting the exhaust system to work better. “I…,” Damian considered lying. It would not work. “No. Not yet.” 

Damian waited for the punishment. He’s failing again, failing to consider all angles. Amateur mistake. He was too excited to work on maneuverability that he forgot about everything else. 

Damian had accumulated punishment after punishment in just the short time he was here, but why wouldn’t Grayson _do_ anything about it? Was he waiting, luring Damian to a sense of security only to then burn that sense of security? 

Grayson lifted his hands. Damian braced for a hit. 

The hit never came. 

Instead, Grayson signed something that Damian didn’t recognize. Grayson must have sensed Damian’s confusion, because he then spelled, “ _T-O-R-Q-U-E-W-R-E-N-C-H,_ ” then he repeated the sign that Damian did not recognize before. 

Grayson thought that Damian was confused about the sign. He was, but that was not what Damian was truly confused about. Grayson waited for a moment, then repeated the spelling, slower this time. 

That brought Damian out of his confusion. Grayson was asking for a torque wrench? Was he going to join Damian in working with the Batmobile? 

“I understood what you said, Grayson,” Damian said. He almost blurted out what he truly wanted to say, but he reined himself in at the last moment. If Grayson wasn’t going to punish him yet, Damian was not going to ask for it and risk making it worse. Of course, Grayson could be testing Damian, testing how much failure could Damian recognize before he knew he had to be punished, but Damian could not see the man being as cruel as that. 

Grayson waited with his hands outstretched. Oh. He was still waiting for the torque wrench. Damian gave it to him, and then returned to what he himself was doing. If Grayson wished to work on the Batmobile too, who was Damian to question it. 

They worked for a while, together, but separately -- Damian with his maneuvering system and Grayson with his exhaust system -- until suddenly, Grayson asked, “ _Do you think you can finish this before we move to the Bunker?”_

Grayson had spoken to Damian about that a couple days prior. Apparently they were moving their base of operations to the Wayne Tower, at the center of the city proper. It was a strategic move. Moving to the Wayne Tower would mean less time in transport, but Damian suspected there were other reasons that caused Grayson to move. Father worked from this Cave for years, after all. Damian did not ask, because contrary to popular belief, he _did_ possess a modicum of propriety. “Yes. I think I could,” Damian said. It was a challenge, even if it was phased as a question. Damian would rise above all challenges Grayson could give him, and it would prove to Grayson that Damian was the best. 

Grayson just smiled. “ _Good. Now come on, let’s go shower. We stink.”_ He then put the tools he had been using back to the toolbox, wiped his hands, and ruffled Damian’s hair. 

Damian could agree with taking a shower. He had, after all, spent almost the whole day tinkering with the Batmobile, and his clothes were stained with sweat, grease, and other unidentifiable things. He _could not_ agree with the hair ruffling. “What was that for, Grayson?” Damian demanded. 

Grayson just laughed his way to the showers. 

*

After the showers, Damian couldn’t take it anymore. He had racked up enough failures throughout the day to warrant punishment, surely. Mother would have made sure of that. The combination of exhaustion after a day of working at the Batmobile and the sense of calmness that came after a shower made Damian’s mind to mouth filter off enough that he actually asked, “Are you going to punish me?”

Damian regretted the words as soon as they were out. Grayson, still putting on clothes after his own shower, froze. The calm, almost relaxed atmosphere tensed immediately. 

Grayson turned around slowly. Very slowly. Damian, for the third time today, braced for a hit. And for the third time today, the hit did not come. 

Grayson walked towards Damian, still moving very slowly. He stopped, then crouched down, also still moving slowly. Damian could not look at him, but he also could not take it anymore. The..., the carefulness of Grayson’s movement. But maybe this was punishment in and of itself. Keeping Damian on his toes, forcing him to be hyper-aware of all his actions. “Well?” Damian asked again, after Grayson had crouched in front of him. Damian kept his eyes trained on his feet. “Are you going to punish me?” 

Grayson signed something. Damian could not see what it was. Damian _did not want_ to see what it was. 

A sigh escaped Grayson. A hand gently lifting Damian’s chin, coaxing him to look up. Damian was used to people forcing him to do something he did not want to. Normally he could outlast them by sheer stubbornness, no matter how rough they were to him. But somehow, this gentle touch from Grayson unraveled him thoroughly, because Damian let his gaze be pulled towards Grayson. 

Once Damian looked at Grayson however, Damian knew. Grayson understood. Grayson understood what Damian meant. Grayson had lived it himself. 

It was not by Father’s hands. Damian knew that much before Father had… gone. But now that Damian knew Grayson understood, his refusal to punish Damian perplexed Damian even more. Didn’t the man know what sort of results that system produced? 

“ _That will not happen here, Damian,”_ Grayson signed. _“Whatever you think you deserve to be punished for, it doesn’t work that way here._ ” 

“So there will be no punishment? For anything? What sort of operations are you building, Grayson?” Damian knew he shouldn’t push. Damian knew he should be thankful that there would be no punishment today, and left it at that. But he can’t. Grayson was very confusing. He knew the system, and he knew that the system works, but he’s saying that it was not like that here? Damian _needs to know_. 

_“We’ll have a very long conversation about what sorts of things will get you punished, and what kinds of punishment those actions entails. But whatever you were thinking before, Damian?”_ Grayson’s eyes clouded. That look again. The look that tells Damian Grayson understood. _“That will not happen here_.” 

And despite everything, Damian believed him. 

***

Damian was silent while stripping off his costume. He might have put on his usual chatter when riding back from that confrontation with the damned Pyg, but here, now, in the relative safety of the Bunker, Damian found himself unable to keep his shield up. He had failed, before. He had promised a girl and then failed to deliver on that promise. 

Would Grayson also fail to keep his promise of not punishing him? 

Grayson said the girl must have gotten out. Damian didn’t _truly_ fail, then, because the girl managed to get out of that place. But Damian had promised the girl that _he_ would get her out, and he simply left her to fight Pyg. A fight that he needed Grayson’s help to finish. 

What did that say about him? He had given his word that he will not kill anymore, but then he also failed in protecting people. What good was he now?

A touch on his shoulders. Damian looked up, startled, only to find Grayson’s concerned face hovering near him. _“Are you alright_?” 

Was he alright? Before he could think about it more, however, old instincts came out, and he gritted out, “Yes.” 

Grayson simply looked at him. What was it about that look that made Damian so helpless? Grayson didn’t even look threatening. 

“No,” Damian eventually said. There was no point in answering otherwise. Grayson would know. Grayson always knows. 

“ _It’s about the girl, isn’t it?”_

“Yes.” 

“ _Want to talk about it?_ ” 

“No.” 

Grayson smiled. _“Will I get something other than monosyllabic answers out of you tonight?_ ” The movement was light, but there was an undercurrent of … something in Grayson’s smile. 

Damian considered answering in a full sentence, just to annoy Grayson, but he really didn’t feel like doing so. The fight had taken more out of him than he thought. “No,” he finally answered. 

_“Can I say something anyways?_ ” 

Damian wanted to say no. He wanted to storm off and reject Grayson’s attempts at… something. Instead, what actually came out of his mouth was, “Fine.” 

Grayson’s face turned kind. Was that right? Yes. It was kindness, Damian was sure of it. 

“ _Sometimes we can’t save everyone, Damian. You have to learn to live with that. Even_ ,” and here Grayson does a sign he can’t recognize, “ _can’t save everyone_.” 

“I know that!” Damian almost shouted out. 

Grayson ignored him. “ _I know how you’re feeling right now. I wish I could say it gets easier, but it doesn’t. So you learn to live with it. And you try to do better next time. She got out, remember?_ ” 

“I _know_ that!” If the first one was shouted out angrily, then this one was choked out. He should be better than this. He’s _Robin_. 

This time Grayson stopped. _“Then why are you so angry?_ ” 

“Because I promised her I would get her out!” The tears almost came out, but Damian pushed it down. He’s Damian Wayne, he’s an al Ghul, he’s the heir to the Demon, he’s _Robin_. He would not cry over this stupid mistake. 

Grayson seemed to think otherwise. He pulled Damian close, hugged him, even, and stayed there. Eventually, as hard as Damian tried not to, the tears fell out. “I … promised her… I would get her out!” Damian said between gasps of breath. “And then… I didn’t. What did that ... say about me… Grayson?” 

Grayson pulled apart. Damian knew that he did that because Damian needed to _see_ him to be able to understand what he’s saying, but it still felt like a loss. 

“ _It says that you’re a hero, Damian. Because even in the middle of everything, you still thought about getting her out. That makes you a hero, okay?_ ” 

Damian wanted to believe Grayson’s words so much, he did. He couldn’t quite believe that though. Damian nodded anyways. 

“Grayson?” Damian said. The man hummed his acknowledgement. “What does this,” he repeated the sign he didn’t recognize before, “mean?” 

Grayson smiled at him, more real this time than the one before. He spelled out, “ _S-U-P-E-R-M-A-N._ ”

“Ah. The alien Father was so fond of.” 

_“Yeah, kiddo._ ” 

“... Do you really mean that? What you said earlier?”

“ _I meant every word of it, Damian_.” 

***

It was a day like any other. Grayson went to what could charitably be called work, while Damian was left at the Penthouse to do what could charitably be called schoolwork. Then, Grayson returned, and they came down to the Bunker to suit up for patrol. 

After patrol ended (much too early for Damian’s tastes), they were supposed to be training. It was an acceptable routine for Damian. School, patrol, then training. But strangely, that night, Grayson did not lead Damian to any of the training facilities, from the sparring ring to the computer where Grayson usually ran simulations for Damian to solve. No. Grayson led Damian into a room full of… was that trapeze equipment? How had Damian missed an entire room of trapeze equipment? 

Grayson was, for lack of better word, jittery next to him. He gave Damian a smile so wide it should have been fake (somehow, when it was Grayson who did it, it was as true as the sun), and then signed, “ _I thought you might want to try this? Learn trapeze, I mean._ ”

This was a test. Of course. How foolish Damian was, thinking that the tests ended when he had left Mother’s doorstep. Grayson might have promised no punishment, but he did not promise no tests. Batman and Robin were the best, and so Damian would have to be the best too. That was the only reasonable explanation. Nobody asked Damian if he wanted to learn something. They simply gave the information to him and expected him to learn it. To excel in it. Mother did. Grandfather did. _Father_ did. 

So this was a test. It has to be. Only Damian could not figure out what was going to be tested. Was this about Damian’s ability to learn new things? Was this about his knowledge of Grayson? Was this about his focus on the mission? 

If this was Mother, Damian would refuse. Trapeze has nothing to do with the mission. Acrobatics are very useful on the field, it allows Damian to move unhindered, but trapeze is another thing entirely. Damian could see no use of it in his mission to be Batman. 

With that, Damian has decided, and he said, “No.” 

Grayson’s smile faded in an instant. It left only hollow eyes, nothing like Damian had seen before. All the energy that always seemed to be buzzing underneath Grayson’s skin disappeared. 

“ _Okay_ ,” Grayson signed. Only that. Then he went out of the room. 

Has Damian miscalculated? No. Impossible. He did what Robin, what Batman was supposed to do. Focus on the mission. If Grayson forgot about that, it was none of his business. 

*

It was Pennyworth who came to Damian in his room, hours later. That seemed significant, but Damian could not figure out why. 

“Master Damian. May I have a word?” 

Damian scoffed. “Even if I say you may not, you will say it anyway, Pennyworth.” He would. Damian had learned that much throughout his stay with the man. The question was asked out of politeness than an actual question. 

Pennyworth nodded. “That is wise, Master Damian.” 

“Well?” 

“I believe that today Master Dick offered to teach you the trapeze. And I also believe that you refused that offer.” 

Was this another test? Was Grayson not satisfied with the previous one, that he sent Pennyworth here to test him again? 

“What is the matter with that, Pennyworth?” Damian finally asked. 

Pennyworth sighed. “Master Dick had gone through a … difficult childhood, shall we say. You know that. The trapeze is one of the few things that the Court did not take away from him. It was one of the last things he had from his time with his parents.” 

Damian stood up. “I know that, Pennyworth! Get to the point!” Damian felt a chill through his body. He did know that. Grayson and Pennyworth had said all of that already. What was the matter? Why did both Grayson and Pennyworth make such a big deal over it? 

“That was not all, Master Damian. Please, sit back down.” 

The butler’s tone was kind enough, but Damian knew it broke no argument. Pennyworth waited until Damian had sat back down, then continued. “Teaching the trapeze is how Master Dick connects his new family with his old one. He taught it at some point to every single person he considered family. Master Bruce, Miss Barbara, Master Jason, Master Tim, Miss Cassandra, _myself_ , and his closest friends.” 

Oh. Oh. 

“Teaching _you_ the trapeze is his way of showing you that he considers you family.” 

Damian had miscalculated. Badly. 

“Are you certain of this, Pennyworth?” 

“Yes, Master Damian. I am quite certain.” 

Damian looked down to his lap for a moment, then looked back up to Pennyworth. He had to fix this. If trapeze was Grayson’s way of showing Damian that they are family, then, earlier that night, Damian had just blatantly rejected Grayson’s offer of becoming family. 

Months ago, Damian couldn’t care less. He was not there to become family to the other children of his father. He was there to succeed Father. Nothing more, nothing less. But now, well, now Grayson has somehow made Damian care about him. 

Damian had to fix this. Fast. 

“How do I fix this, Pennyworth?” 

“Well, Master Damian,” Damian could almost hear the smile in the butler’s words, even if Pennyworth would never do such a mundane thing as smile, “I believe you should ask to be taught.” 

*

Damian found Grayson working. Of course. He would not expect any less. 

Damian had to play this right. He had already offended Grayson by dismissing his offer of family. He would not offend Grayson furthermore by being callous about this. 

“Grayson?” Damian finally settled on asking. He would base his next actions on Grayson’s reactions. 

(If Grayson did not react… No. Grayson will react.) 

Grayson did not turn to meet Damian, as he always did before. But he stopped typing, at the very least. It was something. 

“I…” Who knew that this could be so hard? It was not as if the next words out of his mouth might push Grayson away forever. “I have reconsidered your offer. I would like to learn the trapeze, if you are still willing to teach it to me.” 

_That_ got Grayson to turn towards Damian. The smile was still missing, but at least Grayson’s eyes were not hollow. Progress. 

“ _Do you want to learn?”_ Grayson asked. 

Without hesitation, Damian said, “Yes.” 

The answer brought a smile to Grayson’s face. Small, yes, but it was a start. 

*

“ _Who ratted me out? Alfred?”_ Grayson asked, after they had geared up and climbed the trapeze rig. 

“Nobody ratted anything to me, Grayson. Are you losing your mind?” 

Grayson snorted. “ _Nah. Just trying to distract you from this._ ” 

“Distract me from what?” 

A smile. Then the bastard pushed Damian down from the platform. He had made sure that Damian was grasping the bar properly, but still. The bastard pushed Damian down from the platform. Alone. 

If Damian was laughing all the way down, well, that was between him and Grayson only, wasn’t it? 

(Besides, he was not just laughing all the way down. He laughed throughout the whole lesson, and even more after that. Damian could not recall when he last laughed that much, if that occasion even existed. The experience was something Damian would not balk at experiencing again.) 

***

Sometimes, when the city wasn’t as chaotic as it could have been, when it seemed that they could actually have a handle on the situation, Grayson and Damian could spend hours just _being_ in Grayson’s room. It was not often. More often than not, Grayson would be too busy from being Batman and all that entails from that _and_ trying to get a handle on Hush and the Wayne Enterprises, to be able to take a few minutes off of his day. More often than not, Damian would be too proud to seek comfort from this man who claimed to be his brother. So these moments, where Grayson and Damian could just _be_ , were rare. And Damian treasured every single second of it. 

In the rare occurrence when Grayson actually finished everything he meant to do that day, he would lay down on his bed, tired from all his responsibilities. When Damian could swallow his pride enough, he would join him. (Sometimes Damian wouldn’t not because he was too proud to do so, but because he was afraid that the mere sight of him would remind Grayson of the abundance of responsibilities he had now. After all, Damian knew very well that he was one of those responsibilities Grayson had taken upon his shoulders when Father had.. gone.) 

In those moments, Damian felt safe. 

How absurd was it, that he felt safe with a _broken_ man, when he could not feel safe in the company of his own mother and grandfather? How absurd was it, that he felt safer inside this admittedly secure room than inside one of his mother’s compounds, where every single person there was sworn to protect him? How absurd was that? 

Damian usually slept in those moments. He was never a deep sleeper. His training with the League had made him aware even in sleep. Being left, alone, in an unfamiliar country with unfamiliar people had not done any favors for his sleep. But with Grayson, in those moments, the infamous Canary could unleash her cry inside the room and Damian wouldn’t have woken up. 

He knew he was safe. Grayson himself never slept. As tired as he was, whenever Damian joined him in his bed, Grayson always kept himself awake. He rarely even moved. The only way to describe it was that Grayson kept watch. It perplexed Damian. He could take care of himself. But Grayson always, always kept watch in those moments. It was as if he knew that Damian couldn’t completely relax if there was no one keeping watch. And so Grayson kept watch. Like a bird. 

Like an owl. 

(If pressed, Damian would admit that the reason he felt safe with Grayson was that he knew that Grayson would never hurt him. Not intentionally, anyways. He made that promise months ago. Damian kept waiting for Grayson to break that promise, to hurt him anyways, but he never did. Damian allowed himself to believe that Grayson was telling the truth.

Damian knew perfectly well that Grayson was able to hurt him in other, unintentional ways. His promise could only extend so far. Damian knew that. Mother made sure that Damian knew that. Sometimes Damian cared. Sometimes he didn’t.) 

***

Every breath was painful. Damian knew it could have been worse. The bullet could have pierced his uniform, and then instead of just cracked ribs, Damian could have a collapsing lung. But it was hard to feel grateful when every breath felt like fire. 

He should have seen the bullet coming. He should have dodged that bullet. He should have forced himself to fight through the pain and help Grayson anyways. But it had been too long since Damian had to fight through this much pain. Sloppy. Weak. 

And so, after he incapacitated the man who shot him, Damian could only sit down in the alley, just watching Grayson fight. He should be helping Grayson, instead of just sitting like some helpless child. It was not the first time he had been shot. The bullet didn’t even pierce his skin. 

Weak. 

Damian could hear the sounds of the fight winding down. It seemed Grayson finished it shortly after Damian was shot. Good. Damian didn’t want to have to stand up and fight again. 

Weak. 

A hand touched Damian’s face. He looked up to see the emotionless cowl staring down at him. Was Grayson mad? Would he be punished for letting himself get shot? 

No. Grayson had promised. Months ago. He hadn’t broken that promise. Yet. What if this was the time he broke it? 

Grayson made the field sign for hurt. Damian nodded, not wanting to speak when just breathing already hurt. 

Would Grayson force him to continue patrolling through the pain? Damian could do it, but he didn’t want to. It had been so long since he had to continue being functional even through the pain. He didn’t want to. 

Damian waited for the order to stand up, to continue anyway, to brush off the pain, but it didn’t come. Instead, Grayson called the Batmobile. He lifted Damian, so very gently, but it still jostled Damian’s ribs. Damian hissed in pain. 

Grayson mouthed, “Sorry.” Why wasn’t he signing? Oh. Both his hands were full with Damian. Damian tried to stand up, only for Grayson to adjust his grip so that Damian couldn’t. 

Okay then. Damian let himself be carried by his older brother. It was safe, those hands. He didn’t even realize when Grayson gently strapped him inside the Batmobile. 

*

Damian woke up to the sound of Grayson pacing. Grayson must have been very worked up. Normally, Damian wouldn’t even be able to hear Grayson moving, much less be woken up by it.

“ _Sorry_ ,” Grayson smiled sheepishly. “ _I’ll be quiet._ ”

“It’s fine, Grayson,” Damian said. “I’m up anyways.” 

“ _Are you feeling okay?”_

“No, I was shot,” Damian said. He meant it to be sarcastic, because getting shot is basically an occupational hazard at this point. Besides, Grayson knew about his training at the League. A shot that didn’t even pierce the skin was not worth mentioning. 

Grayson apparently missed that memo, because he started to sign frantically. “ _Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t good enough. I’m so sorry, Damian._ ” 

Damian frowned. “I was joking, Grayson. It’s fine. It’s just a few cracked ribs.” 

“ _Bruised._ ” 

Ah. It wasn’t as bad as Damian thought. It made his inability to keep fighting much more shameful, though, because bruised ribs were not even worthy of a mention back at the League. “See? It’s fine. Bruised ribs are practically nothing.” 

“ _You were shot, Damian_.” 

“And it didn’t go through. I’m fine, Grayson.” 

“ _It was so close to your,_ ” and here Grayson signed his name.

“It was close to me? I don’t understand, Grayson. I was shot, yes.” 

Grayson froze. His face did a complicated thing before going blank, something Damian now knew meant that he was pushing his emotions away for later. It would have been admirable at the League, but why did Damian hate it now, when it was Grayson who did it? 

“ _H-E-A-R-T._ ” 

“Pardon?” It couldn’t be. Damian must have seen it wrong. 

“ _It was so close to your H-E-A-R-T._ ” After he spelled it, Grayson signed Damian’s name again. Only it couldn’t be, because that sign meant heart. So it couldn’t be Damian’s name, because, because. 

Grayson named Damian ‘heart’. 

“What?” 

“ _Do you want me to change it?_ ” Grayson looked away. His face was still blank, but his eyes were sad. 

Heart. Grayson named Damian ‘heart.’ Was this why it was always Pennyworth who explained his injuries to him? Did Grayson not want Damian to know what his name meant? 

“ _D-A-M-I-A-N_ ,” Grayson spelled out his name. Was he angry? He only ever spelled out Damian’s name when he was angry. Only, the usual sign for his name apparently meant heart. And Grayson was… “ _Do you want me to change it?_ ” 

Did Damian want Grayson to change the name? He should, anyone who knows ASL would instantly know about Grayson’s weak spot. He didn’t even _want_ to be Grayson’s weak spot. 

But he found himself not wanting to. He _wanted_ the name. So he said, “No.” 

The smile that adorned Grayson’s face made the entire fiasco worth it. 

***

After he and Grayson had stormed into Mother’s base, Damian stood next to Grayson back in the bunker as he typed reports into the Batcomputer. 

Damian waited for Grayson to start the conversation, but nothing seemed to be coming from him, so Damian had to start then. “Why me?” he asked. “You could have had Drake be your Robin. He was practically begging for it.” 

Grayson hummed. 

“ _Grayson_. Why me?” 

Grayson finally looked away from the report he had been typing. “ _Because you’re you,”_ he signed. 

“What does that mean?”

_“It means you’re you, Damian_.”

“So?”

Grayson sighed. He turned his chair around, facing Damian. “ _You need Robin. And I need you.”_ Grayson shrugged. “ _That’s all there is_.”

“No,” Damian shook his head, “that can’t be it. Drake could have been Robin.” Damian remembered all too well the sensation of his body moving without his control. Of his body moving to hurt Grayson. All because he had been returned to Mother after he was shot during that altercation with Red Hood and Scarlet. Mother, never the one to throw away opportunities, had planted a machine in Damian’s spine and used it to control Damian’s actions. After all, it was why they had stormed her base in the first place. “Maybe better. _He_ wouldn’t have allowed himself to get shot. He was right about Father, after all.” 

Damian forced himself to look at Grayson. To face whatever judgment Grayson would give him without flinching. He had failed, after all. He had allowed himself to be shot. It was his fault that Mother was able to make a tool of his body. 

Grayson put his hand on Damian’s cheek. Damian steeled himself for the worst. At the very least, his actions merited a slap from those hands. (Those hands that had cared for him much more than anyone else in this world, Mother included. Grayson had promised, way back in the beginning, that he would never punish Damian like that. Grayson had never broken that promise before. Damian kept waiting for him to break it.). 

At worst, this was the last act of kindness Grayson would ever give him. 

The slap did not come. Grayson’s hand retreated, causing Damian to follow it before he remembered himself. He would not give Grayson even more things to be disappointed in.

_“Being Robin saved me.”_ The hand was only retreated to sign with, not because of anything Damian had done. Damian suppressed a sigh of relief. “ _I hoped it would save you too_.”

“But why?” Damian couldn’t stop himself from asking. He knew he should stop, before he gave Grayson even more reasons to throw him out. He had cut ties with Mother earlier today. He did not need Grayson, the only person left who cared for him, to throw him out too. But he needed to know. “It would have been easier with him. You did not have to train him anymore. He knows you, have been your Robin before. You told me that. _Why me?_ ” 

_“Tim needed to be his own hero. I can’t be his Batman_.”

“Bullshit. You can. He was ready to let you be his Batman. Even if that’s true, you didn’t have to take me in. You didn’t have to make _me_ Robin. Why, Grayson?” 

This was it. Grayson was finally going to realize that Damian is a failure and he was going to kick Damian out. Damian felt his spine, the spine that Mother had implanted machines on, stiffen. 

_“Because you’re you, Damian_ ,” Grayson signed.

Damian did not understand. What kind of answer was that? Taking someone in, training them, _caring_ for them, simply because they are themselves? Damian knew he was not an easy nor agreeable child. Damian knew that by keeping him, Grayson had sacrificed so much. But he still did it, because, because Damian was … _Damian_? 

“I don’t understand,” Damian said. 

_“Maybe it’s because you’re Bruce’s son. Maybe it’s because you don’t have anywhere else to go. Letting you go back to Talia was not an option, as you know now._ ” A twist of displeasure on Grayson’s lips. Some misplaced sense of charity then, or a sense of obligation to Father. Damian could work with that. He was about to say that he did not need charity when Grayson continued. “ _Maybe it’s because I saw myself in you._ ”

Oh. Damian stopped. That was unexpected. 

If Grayson had said it a few months earlier, Damian would have raged. How dare he equate Damian’s own superior upbringing with his time with the Court of Owls? But now, after what Mother had done, Damian was starting to doubt about the so-called superiority of his upbringing. After all, if Mother could implant _that_ machine into Damian’s spine, was she any better than the Court? Not to mention the clone of himself that Mother was making. 

His destiny, Mother had said. But it was not _his_ destiny, was it? It was the destiny Mother had wanted for him. As if Damian was nothing but a pawn to be played with in her plans. 

Grayson had a destiny too, from the Court of Owls. Damian knew that. Mother had played with him like the Court of Owls had played with Grayson. 

Grayson smiled sadly at Damian. Damian could see from his face that Grayson knew Damian had understood what he meant. “ _We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”_ Grayson signed. 

Grayson had rejected the Court. By being Robin, by being Nightwing, and now, by being Batman. From what Damian knew about the Court of Owls, it should not have been possible for a Talon to live in defiance of the Court. Except Grayson escaped. Except Grayson was courtless, and he was here. 

Damian was born, no, he was made, designed to be an assassin. He was designed to fulfill Mother’s plans, and so he was designed to thrive within the League of Assassins. Mother had made that abundantly clear with the clone she was making. Months in Gotham, under Grayson’s tutelage, had shown Damian how ill-suited he was to live outside the League. Except, hours earlier, Damian had stood in front of his mother, and rejected her. Rejected the League. An enemy of the House of al Ghul, Mother had said. 

What would he be, without the League behind him? There had never been a member of the League that left. They were all killed immediately. Damian was the first person to leave the League without being killed where he stands. It was uncharted territory, now. 

But was it, really? There’s Grayson in front of him. It was not uncharted territory as long as Grayson was there. Grayson would help him. 

So Damian nodded, and said, “Yes. We’re quite the pair.” 

A courtless talon, and a leagueless assassin. Two things that should never have existed in the first place. 

Batman and Robin. 

***

“You want to return to Nightwing.” 

Grayson, still with the damned bandage on his head, turned around to meet Damian. He had his smile on. Damian didn’t like that. 

“You were ready to… to throw away Batman just like that!” Grayson still had his smile on. Damian wanted to wash that smile off his face. “What about us?” 

“ _I didn’t, though. I’m still Batman_.” 

“Only because Father had that Batman Incorporated idea,” Damian refused to be calmed down so quickly. “You would have, wouldn’t you? Give Father back Batman, just like that.” 

“ _He is Batman, Damian_.” Damian usually liked it when someone is rational and able to argue their points calmly. He didn’t like it now, when Grayson turned that to him. 

“What about us, Grayson?” Damian shouted out. When no reply appeared to come, Damian said again, softly this time, “What about us?” 

“ _I’m still Batman, Damian. This is not about Batman and Robin, not really, right?”_

Damian hated it when Grayson figured him out. He sighed. “You… You want to become Nightwing again.” He stopped there, not wanting to say it out loud. Somehow, saying it out loud would make it tangible, make it real. Grayson waited patiently, though, so Damian continued. “Is it, is it because Nightwing… doesn’t have a partner?” 

Doesn’t have me. That was what Damian actually meant, but he couldn’t bear to say that. The answer might still be yes. 

“ _Damian_. _I want to be Nightwing because it’s mine. Batman was Bruce’s first. It has nothing to do with you_.” 

Damian looked up at Grayson. He knew, now that his father was back, Grayson no longer had any obligation towards him whatsoever. “Nothing to do… with me?” There were multiple meanings underneath that question. Am I still your partner? Am I still your Robin? Do you still want me? 

_“You’re mine_. _Yeah?_ ” 

Just like all those months ago, when Grayson told Damian that there will be no League-like punishment here, Damian believed him. It worked both ways, after all. Grayson was also his. “Okay,” he said. 

***

**Author's Note:**

> if any of you recognize the trapeze scene, I've posted it before! i rewrote some parts of it, though  
> check out my tumblr (huilian.tumblr.com)


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